Page 8 of Jon’s Desert Prince Dream

The memory of that whispered statement floated through my mind again, and I grinned at him. Oh, there would be sex tomorrow. Of that I was sure. I’d seduce him, show him just how generous I could be. Perhaps I’d need to seduce him into choosing me as an anchor, too. I’d keep that as an option.

I’d told my family about him throughout dinner, and the news had been received with mixed emotions. My parents were excited I had found a psychic I wanted to anchor with, of course, and Mack had relayed how good-natured Jon was. But they’d also been wroth with Jon’s former king for his insult when Tennoa had been arguing with Orleansa about trade treaties because they enslaved people. I was angry enough to think war a perfectly valid response right now. After I’d reported to my king, he had been beside himself, ready to lay waste to the Orleansan capital in response. We’d talked of the best way to respond, of how to phrase a letter, but no language felt strong enough to convey our disgust and rage over this “gift” of theirs.

But that was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, ensuring Jon rested safely and comfortably, that was my responsibility.

I rose from the bed long enough to bathe away the sand and heat of the day, almost strolled naked to the bed, thought better of it, then put on sleep pants before slipping under the sheets. I cuddled in close to Jon once more, turning us about so I could spoon him from behind. Ah, better. We could both rest well now.

I let my eyes slip closed, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine. He was a beautiful man, even poor diets and lack of sleep couldn’t disguise that, and I wanted him ardently. It was quite the compliment that he clearly felt the same way for me. Still, what I wanted was this man’s full trust, to see him flourish and come into his own, to watch him take an elevated status in society, as he was rightfully due.

I wanted the world for him.

How to convince him of that, I wasn’t sure. How to convince him that I trusted his eyes, I wasn’t sure of that either.

It seemed we had much to discuss in the morning.

3

I woke up the next morning alone in bed, but considering how high the sun was in the sky, that wasn’t too much of a surprise. I lay there, comfortable and loath to move, for several minutes. Rarely in my life had I felt so at peace. Normally, I was wary of my environment due to various conflicts in the household, as arguments were a nonstop thing between my mother and her husband, and peace was a very precious commodity. I normally worked hard from sunup to sundown, for that matter, and lazing about in bed would have been unheard of.

Lying here, tempting as it was, didn’t give me any answers. The urge to create my own place in this land, so different from my own, eventually forced me out of the cocoon of blankets. I rose, and I swear, the second I was up maids appeared from nowhere. They were all nice, introduced themselves and everything, but I was very quickly hustled into a side bathroom where I was shaved, given a haircut, wounds treated, and generally cleaned up.

Mack had been right: The maids didn’t really understand what ‘no’ meant, but it was hard to argue with them when they were trying to help.

An hour after rising, I was dressed in loose, sky blue robes that belted at the waist—apparently the standard outfit in this place—and I truly liked the color, it was beautiful, but it also rather rang alarm bells.

Blue was the color of royalty.

That was standard for anywhere in this world. It was part of why my king—former king?—so desperately wanted trade rights with Tennoa. They had not one, but two sources of blue dye. One was lapis lazuli, a highly rare gem in Orleansa, but apparently Tennoa boasted several hearty mines of it over here. They’d also figured out how to somehow make what they called cobalt blue, a rare and rich color artisans around the world desperately wanted their hands on. In some places, just getting a shipment of cobalt blue dye took three years.

Frankly, no other country in the world could supply blue on demand except the Tennoans.

And this crazy teddy bear of a man had put me in clothing my own king couldn’t readily lay hands on.

I was…speechless.

I heard the scuff of a foot near the door and turned. Prince Donovan stood framed just in the bedroom doorway, in pure black robes with a thick brown belt, a sword hanging off of it, and sandals. His eyes raked me from head to toe, his lines sparking with approval, interest, and the sexual desire that never seemed to ever wane. He mostly looked relieved, though, interestingly enough? Had I been worrying him?

“You look stunning in blue,” Prince Donovan said approvingly, coming in closer. “I knew it would be the right color on you.”

“You just put me in a prince’s outfit,” I accused him, although I smiled to show I wasn’t upset, just absolutely flabbergasted.

Prince Donovan wasn’t even remotely apologetic. “I did. I won’t pretend otherwise. Now, come, we’ve multiple things to do today.”

Truly, I was relieved, as I didn’t know where to start. I accepted the hand he offered me, and wasn’t surprised when he chose to hold hands with me. He was not subtle, not at all.

“To start, every person who was brought here unwillingly has been given options. Everyone chose to stay. They are going to start either with vocational training, or they’re being matched with other psychics. Mostly so they can learn more about their own abilities, and how they can use them in this society. Sadly, we don’t know of a Reader with eyes like yours, so I can’t easily put you with a mentor.”

“You have a registry with all of the psychics, then?”

“We do. Mainly so we can lay hands on an expert when we need one, but also because anyone who is psychic works for the community, so they’re on payroll.”

“Oh, makes sense.” I pointed to myself, stealing a glance up at him, even though I was mostly paying attention to hallways. It would behoove me to learn the palace layout since apparently I’d live here. At least for now. “So, um, I’ll be hired as well?”

“That’s one of the first things we’ll do this morning.” Prince Donovan looked warmly at me, gaze full of pure adoration, which went straight to my ego. “We’ll register you so that you may have your own status in society, your own money. It does mean registering you as a citizen as well.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.” Better to be a citizen here anyway—this country was much nicer.

“Then, of course, the council wants to meet with you. You’re the last psychic to meet them, in fact, and they’ve got more than a few questions for you.”